


show me how to be whole again

by monkkeyslut



Category: Darker Than Black
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 14:37:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/663133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monkkeyslut/pseuds/monkkeyslut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hei and Yin's life together in three acts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	show me how to be whole again

**Author's Note:**

> This is set directly after the ending of Gemini of the Meteor. It's also my first time writing something for Darker than Black, so hopefully I've done the characters justice.

 

* * *

**i.** beginning

 

Not long after stealing Izanami from her, does it begin to rain. It seems fitting, Hei thinks sadly, casting a glance at the silver girl in his arms, watching the droplets drip onto her silken skin, passing over breasts and collarbones and through hair, that she might die in the thing she cherished so much.

The moon’s light bathes her in an ethereal glow, something Hei can’t begin to describe, and he watches as her chest rises, falls, breath laboured and shallow. Despite his hopes, Hei figures she will die. The strain on her body, the sustenance she couldn’t gain through an IV, it would be a toll that would weigh heavily on her, and Hei wishes that it didn’t.

_The gate gives, and the gate takes,_ is what they say. The gate has taken so much from him and given so little in return. He has been cheated in this shithole life of his, and oh, how he wishes he could just give up, but he can’t. Not yet.

If she does not make it through the night, he thinks desperately, pushing open the safe house door and setting her down on the small couch. Through the small curtain, he spots stars falling, burning bright, and his, in the middle of it all. It’s small and a bit dim, but it’s there once more, and it’s almost like Pai is with him.

He doesn’t waste any time in turning the heat on, or finding something to cover her with. The idea of her freezing to death is almost as bad as killing her himself, and he won’t chance it. Not this time.

He settles for a worn blanket, something that is hardly warm enough, but the only thing they _have,_ and drapes it across her still body, tucking it around her. _This won’t do anything to keep her from the cold,_ Hei thinks, annoyed with himself that he hadn’t prepared for this. But he hadn’t thought he could _save her_ like this. He still doesn’t know if he has. It could still be Izanami, she could still die. It all depended on those eyes when they opened, if they were hazy and blank, or full of things Hei couldn’t begin to imagine. Or if they even opened at all.

Hei is unsure of how long he sits there, holding her small hand in his. He’s unsure if it is minutes or hours that pass, but when her eyelids begin to flutter and her breathing becomes deep, controlled, it feels like a lifetime since he’s been with her. Slowly, her hand tightens around his and her head moves, twisting against the cushions of the couch until she’s facing him, her blank eyes staring just beyond him.

For a long moment, he watches her. She must be confused, unsure of her surroundings. She squeezes his hand once more, twisting her fingers with his, and Hei’s heart pounds in his chest and leaps into his throat. “ _Yin,”_ he breathes eventually, and her eyes dart to his face, softening. And it’s her. It’s _Yin,_ not Izanami. She’s the Doll—the _girl_ he remembers, and the tears that sting his eyes are filled with two years of hopelessness and loss. When she speaks, her voice is the same he remembers; soft and warm and alive.

“Hei.”

* * *

 

  **ii.** middle

 

Escaping from the people who want Izanami’s host is hardly easy, but they manage somehow, and Hei is sure not to let her out of his sight again. But it doesn’t stop them from running into Contractors who recognize the Black Reaper or the pretty little Doll he has with him. It’s not often, but it happens, and although he’s fast, Hei doesn’t always leave a fight without a few new wounds.

One particular fight is gruesome, and he has to send Yin into the office of the motel to have her buy a room because he is unable to do so. She comes back minutes later with a key in her hand, and Hei takes it from her gratefully, pulling her along to the room.

It’s nothing special. The places they stay now hardly are, but at least it’s a roof over their heads for the time being. And Yin never complains, only keeps a tighter hold on his hand. He thinks she might have a sixth sense for these kinds of things, knowing when they’re in a bad part of town or when they’re in trouble, but he doesn’t comment and she doesn’t share.

Immediately after entering the room, Hei locks the door and makes his way to the small, dimly lit washroom. He doesn’t look to see if Yin follows him, but she does, resting her hand against the door frame. “Are you alright, Hei?”

“Fine,” he murmurs, peeling his jacket off. But he doesn’t believe he’s exactly _fine_ when he looks in the mirror and sees the dark stubble coating his jaw, or the way his hair is getting longer. They’ve been running too long, for _so long,_ and it’d be nice to just stop and breathe and take each other in. He’s fought for nearly two years to get her back, and he’s tired of waiting to be safe, to let their guard down.

Hei bites his tongue when he presses a wet cloth against the cut in his side. It’s not the worst he’s ever gotten, but it _hurts_ like a bitch. Yin hasn’t moved from her spot by the door, and she seems to be watching him, though he knows she can’t see him. _Can she?_ He’s never really thought about it before, or even asked her, but he remembers the sound of a piano playing in an abandoned place, and the way she reacted to that Contractor dying, the one who could take Doll’s spectres.

“Yin?”

“Yes?” She murmurs, walking into the room, kicking his discarded shirt as she walks. In a second, she’s next to him, her warmth spreading down his arms and across his chest. “What is it, Hei?”

“Can you…are you completely blind?”

Yin turns, resting her hands on the mouth of the sink, the tips of her fingers touching the water that he’s filled it with. “Sometimes I can see shapes and shadows, but I know what things are; what they look like because of my spectre.”

That makes him pause, a dry towel now presses to the cut. It’s shallow enough not to need stitches, but he’ll need to have her get the first aid kit in her bag soon. But he forgets about it momentarily, turning to look at her.

He hadn’t realized how close she was before, but his chest brushed her shoulder and arm as he looks at her. “You can see me?”

A small smile, just a hint of one that makes Hei’s stomach twist and tumble like he’s sixteen again, lights up her face, and she twists, pressing her hand over his where it holds the towel to his side. She slips a bit, hitting the edge of his hand more than the top, but adjusts when she realizes her mistake. “Yes. I could always see you. Sometimes you were very… _sad_ , Hei.”

His hand rises without his permission, resting against the side of her face. Yin looks a bit surprised, but soon leans against it, trapping his hand between her shoulder and cheek. “I’m not sad anymore, Yin.”

“But you are hurt,” she whispers, tightening her hold on his hand. The pain from his side seems to come back all at once, and Hei scowls, pulling away from her reluctantly.

“It’s just a scratch. Would you mind getting the first aid kit in your bag, Yin? I left it on the bed.”

She’s gone and back in a few moments, already opening the kit on the counter, fingers sifting through the medicine and bandages, looking for the large gauze pad that will cover his wound. When she finds it, Yin holds it up for him to see. Hei takes it from her, and grabs the tube of polysporin that will hopefully keep infection away from the cut.

By the time he’s finished, the clock in the other room reads _4:27_ in bright fluorescent.  Hei is exhausted, and he’s sure Yin is as well, what with the way her eyes are closed, her hands submerged in the cool water by the sink.

He carefully nudges her out of the way, letting the water out and rinsing the dried blood from his fingers. “You should go get changed, Yin. I’ll clean up.”

“You’re tired,” she murmurs, but turns away anyway, walking into the other room to change.

Hei stays in the washroom, giving her some privacy. Or trying to, at least. The door is only barely closed, and Hei can see her slipping off the shorts he’d bought her, her long legs stretching. When she stands, she’s clad in only her underwear, having already gotten rid of her shirt and bra and—

He turns away, face flushed. He shouldn’t be doing that, especially when she didn’t know he was looking. It was an invasion of privacy, and he knew better.

Finished with his cleaning, Hei announces that he’s coming back into the room. When Yin doesn’t reply, he takes this as a go ahead and slips into the room, leaving the bathroom door open behind him. Without the light on in the bathroom, it’s pitch black in the room. Hei can hear the bed creaking as Yin situates herself, and he makes his way to their duffle bag, shrugging off his pants and socks and sifting through the bag for an undershirt. He thinks he’s almost found one when Yin’s voice calls from the bed softly. “Hei?”

“I’m coming,” he tells her, but realizes quickly that lifting his arms hurts too much, so he settles for just sleeping shirtless, sure that Yin won’t mind.

When he finally slips into the bed, Yin seeks him out, tracing a path of fire across his skin until the finds the edge of the gauze pad, fingers dancing across it lightly and resting overtop the wound. It smarts a bit, but her presence is calming and warm, so he ignores it.

“They almost got you today. If I hadn’t—“

“You were there.” Yin whispers, eyelashes brushing his chest. Her cold toes brush the tops of his feet, and one of her legs slips between his, though there is nothing sexual about it. She presses close, inhaling slowly. “Hei will always be there with Yin.”

It doesn’t stop the gnawing in his chest that tells him he should have done better, but with Yin there, close and warm and breathing, it’s okay.

“Yes,” he breathes pressing his mouth to her forehead. “I’ll be with you.”

* * *

 

  **iii.** end

 

“I love the rain,” she tells him, her hand stuck out the window of their apartment, the drops pooling in her outstretched palm. “I can see everything when it rains, and everything is brighter.”

“I like the smell,” Hei offers from the stove, the sizzling food popping against his hand. “Everything smells cleaner and refreshed.”

Yin nods, pulling her hands back in and wiping them on the shirt he’d loaned her. He scowls at the water on his white shirt, but says nothing. “Dinner is almost done, by the way.”

She doesn’t answer him, but he knows she’s heard him when she appears at his side, fingers mapping their way across the counter, looking for the utensil drawer. He lets her find it, knowing she’ll be annoyed if he doesn’t. They’ve only been in Hawaii for a few weeks, and she has yet to figure out everything’s place and memorize each room. Not that he blames her, since he usually pulls her out of the house to explore their new home.

 As far as he can tell (and she can see) they’re not being tracked or traced. In fact, there doesn’t seem to be a whole lot of underground or Contractor activity here. But it doesn’t stop him from having Yin check their surroundings, or him leaving in the middle of the night on some wild hunch that they’re being followed. Yin assures him that they are safe here, and even goes as far as making a friend at his work, who is never impatient with Yin’s hesitant English or seemingly cold demeanour.

He and Yin are newlyweds from Okinawa, is what he tells the people at his new job a few blocks away from their apartment. Most people gush about young love to him, and a few even go as far as telling him that he’s _too_ young to be giving his life to another person, but Hei usually just ignores them.

They weren’t acting like they had been back in Okinawa two years earlier and he doesn’t realize it until  a few days earlier, when he had arrived home from work and was greeted with hesitant lips on his own, and Yin’s blank expression afterward, as if wondering if that were okay. And it was.

Soon they aren’t even hesitant around one another, like now, for instance, as she leans against him while he watches the news on their couch, her plate of food resting on her lap, her fork picks up small bites for her to eat.

Hei doesn’t really know how long it took him to realize he was in love with her. He’d _known_ it since after she was taken over by Izanami, but he’d never said it out loud or really even admitted it to himself. It was just there in the back of his mind, fueling his mission to reach her, to kill her, save her.

He often wonders now if she’s loved him just as long, or longer even. It doesn`t really matter, because he’s sure she loves him _now_ and it’s enough.

* * *

 

“I’m getting in the shower, Yin.”

Hei tugs the towel he’d used last night off the doorknob and turns to Yin, watching her ready for bed. “Do you need to use the washroom?”

“No,” she answers, pulling her socks off. He watches her for a moment longer before slipping into the washroom. For a moment he considers leaving the door open, telling himself it’s in case she needs to use the toilet. But she could easily walk in anyway, considering he doesn’t lock it, and leaving it open wouldn’t do any harm.

So he does, and as he strips down to only his briefs, he casts a glance back to the bedroom, sees the shape of her under their thick comforter. Hei feels awful, but it’s almost like he’s… disappointed that she hadn’t taken his bait, that she hadn’t followed him into the washroom.

He steps into the shower, groaning as the water beats against his skin. His job isn’t too difficult; mostly heavy lifting that Hei finds almost too easy, but it does put a strain on his muscles sometimes, and it feels good to wind down, to feel the heat soaking into his muscles. His only regret about buying this house was that he didn’t get one with a bigger washroom. Baths were one of his favorite things, but their small bathroom only allowed for a shower—

The rush of cold as the shower curtain is pulled back is strong and Hei turns, hand raised to fend off the attacker, an instinct he knows well, and curses himself for not paying better attention to their surroundings.

His hand is inches from Yin’s throat when he realizes that it’s her.

She’s naked, the water hitting her bare skin with the smallest of sounds. Her eyes are shut, mouth opened the smallest bit. Hei can tell that she’s seeing him, _really_ seeing him the same way he sees her. Not in muted colours or shadows; she sees tanned skin, scarred in some places, smooth in others. She sees the rigid muscle of his torso, and the black of his hair as it falls into his eyes.

“Oh,” she breathes, stepping into the shower with one hand braced against his chest, the other still in the spray.

Hei knows she’s seen him before, hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if she’s seen him in the shower before, dipped her hand into the water to peek like Mao might have at a bath house. Hei finds that he doesn’t care and pulls her close to him, securing her between his body and the tiled wall.

“Wait,” she murmurs as he pushes wet strands from her face. “I want to see you.”

It takes only a second to move the spray so it’s beating against them and the wall, and then Yin is kissing him, mouth tentative but warm against his, and Hei knows this changes things, that things won’t be hesitant any longer.

“Thank you,” she tells him, fingers pressing against scars she’s traced a thousand times before. Hei doesn’t have to ask what she’s thankful for. He doesn’t feel like he really needs to. There are a million things running through his head, _thank you for not giving up on me, thank you for saving me, thank you for not leaving me._

He’s thankful too, so he breathes it into her mouth and kisses her a bit harder.

* * *

 

Nothing really changes after that. His friends note when they all get together after work that he seems happier, and Hei supposes he has. For the first time in such a long time everything is right and okay. He’s got someone waiting at home, someone who loves him as much as he loves her, so yeah, he’s happy.

_It’s about damn time,_ he thinks.


End file.
